


attempting to capture the snacks

by bishopsknifepatrick



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Bren needs his snacks, I don't know, M/M, this is my first Brallon fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 15:46:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11900931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishopsknifepatrick/pseuds/bishopsknifepatrick
Summary: Brendon is left home alone with no food, and his snacks are hidden on the top of the very tall cabinet thanks to Dallon





	attempting to capture the snacks

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my friend, aka Brallon Stan #1
> 
> I honestly hope you do actually like this

Walking into the kitchen, he could just feel the emptiness of the house settling in. “Dallon!” Brendon yelled, before noticing the paper note held up on the fridge by a plain magnet. 

///

Went to studio, be back this afternoon   
Dallon

///

Well seeing that it was already 1:26pm, Bren just brushed it off, looking for something to eat for breakfast (or lunch). The fridge was practically empty, with all being left inside is less than half a carton of orange juice, leftover ham from a couple nights ago and a jar of mayonnaise. “Fuck,” he said as his stomach rumbled.

There was practically nothing to eat in the cupboards either. “You know what? I don't need to eat,” he said to himself. 

He went and planted himself in the living, surfing through the channels, finding nothing worth watching. Boredom was setting in and with boredom, came hunger. 

He thought maybe he could just order in or something, but that would require having money on him, and well, he didn't have any cash at the moment and going outside didn't feel like a great choice either. 

Brendon now had two options: (1) just wait till his boyfriend got home and either made or bought him something or (2) die. The latter seemed like his most viable option at the moment. 

He lowered himself to the floor and simply laid down. Staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but think of how good a cheeseburger would be at this moment.

He leaned his head back, looking at the top of the cupboards from this angle. And there it sat. The box of snacks Dallon keeps for when Brendon is a cranky motherfucker. 

With determination, Brendon sat up and looked back at it, trying to piece together a plan to receive the snacks. Dallon is really fucking tall and had clearly just causally set his snacks where he couldn't reach them. 

He would have just stood on one of the kitchen table chairs, but then he remembered how the last time he did, the dogs were racing and hit the chair sending him flying . Quickest three seconds of his entire life. 

The chairs were out, so Brendon tried any other solutions. He attempted climbing the cupboards, but he had nothing to hang onto to keep his balance. Then, he tried using a stick, but that ultimately failed. And last, but definitely not less stupid, he tried running and jumping to reach maximum height, multiple times. He did, in fact, not get a hold of the snacks, but instead became very exhausted. 

He spent at least an hour at this because finally giving up. He laid back down on the floor, pouting. Then, he heard the unlocking of his front door, “Hey babe, I'm ho-” Dallon started. “What happened?” Brendon was practically dead on the floor in front of him and that left Dallon standing there, utterly confused. 

“Did you bring home food?” Brendon asked, ignoring Dallon’s original question. 

“No, why?”

“We have nothing to eat,” Brendon said, dazed. “I saw the snacks on the top shelf, but I couldn't get them .”

“And you didn't get them because…?”

“I couldn't reach them,” he simply said, continuing to stay still, arms resting on his stomach. 

Dallon sighed, walking over to the cupboard. He, even at his height, had to stand on his tippy-toes. Pulling them towards him, the box felt extremely light. “Uh-oh.”

“What?” Brendon asked, concerned. 

Hesitantly, Dallon replied quietly, “You might have ate all the snacks.”

Brendon just stared, almost looking ready to cry. 

“Come here,” Dallon said arms open, which Brendon collapsed into, the tears beginning to fall. “You want to go to Taco Bell?”

Brendon said a quiet “yes” between his sobs.


End file.
